


will you have me now?

by Gabby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bucky's a little shit, Dating, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, He loves his friends, He means well though, Male-Female Friendship, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Secretly a Virgin, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Virgin!Darcy, Virginity, Virginity as a theme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:51:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2649278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabby/pseuds/Gabby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"...And what do you suggest I do, genius? Walk on into Steve's apartment, take off my clothes, and serve myself up on a silver, virgin platter?"</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <i>She could possibly murder him for the smirk that appears on his face just then."That is one way of doing it."</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> <br/>In which Darcy tells her best friend her deepest secret, avoids the truth, and gets her cherry popped. No, <i>really.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Are you a virgin?"

That is the question that throws Darcy for a loop on a cool, perfect fall night. Her favorite kind of night. The kind of night people live for in a place that wears autumn as well as New York. Waking up to brisk, sunny days complete with walks into Central Park with multi-colored leaves crunching under boots and then enjoying the temperature dropping further into the evening and night. Dark night sky a deep indigo and complimenting the chilly breezes gently blowing in the air.

The same kind of night she would enjoy for sharing pizza and beer with one of her best friends.

_Hmm. So much for that._

"Huh?" She responds intelligently, turning to meet Bucky's unsurprisingly bemused face as they sit together outside on the comfy veranda chairs on the Avengers' Towers large balcony, a sixer of beer and a box of Venezia's Meat Lovers' Pizza, between the two of them.

"You heard me, doll." Her supposed best friend cocks a brow and goddammit, there's _that_ tell-tale knowing glint in his eye. One that she's all too familiar with. "Still making down payments on your v-card? Is the cherry pie still unbaked? Has your... bread been buttered?"

"Wow!" She exclaims, doing what she does best and deflecting like a pro. "I really should never have shown you _Mean Girls_."

It's at times like this that Darcy wishes she hadn't taught him modern vernacular so well.

Because he'd made it his own. She would never think that the normal way she speaks everyday would become more obnoxious thanks to a _WWII soldier_ but, here she is.

"Darcy..."

"I'm not-" She starts before clearing her throat after taking a swig of beer. "That's a personal question."

"You had me buy you tampons and Midol last month."

"Fuck you!" She immediately retorts hotly, though without real venom. "I was in pain! There was no one else around to get it for me!"

Bucky just cocks his head to the side, as if waiting on some more and god, _she hates him so much just then_.

Not only for his ever present nosiness but, as to how he'd managed to figure out this secret of hers.

Okay, fine, alright, so she's a virgin. Big whoop!

At twenty-five years of age, she's never done the _naked nasty_ with anybody. So what?! It's not something that rare these days, OK? It's not like- She'd grown up in small town Pennsylvania. Her dear, stern single mother had had a religious bent like no one would believe. And small towns do not a privacy policy make.

(A girl from her senior class, Nancy something, had gotten pregnant and had been sent away before she could graduate... even months after the fact, people still talked about it.)

Suffice it to say, Darcy had already been known to be a loud-mouthed, bawdy, and - *loud gasp* - fast atheist by that time so, she hadn't needed that kind of attention.

And _college_? Well... she had been too busy to pay attention to the idiot frat boys following her double Ds, concealed though they may have been, around campus.

One of the many reasons she'd been so eager to follow Jane to New Mexico.

It's not like she'd meant to keep it a secret, alright? She _had_ dated. Just... that'd been it. Just outings with guys of varying degrees of interest to her. Interest _in_ her. And sure, if the date panned out, a kiss every now and again. And if one dated progressed to a few more, maybe further than a kiss. But, only a little. And she'd _always_ called the shots.

And right, if Jane would see her after these dates and assume something had happened, she wouldn't correct her.

And before she knew it, Darcy had pretty much cultivated her own little reputation as a reasonably sexual being without, y'know, actually doing anything of the sort.

She bantered. She blushed. She flirted. She sweet talked.

But, no more than that.

Now, how the fuck had Bucky figured it out when not even Jane knew?

"Lewis?"

She looks over and meets the eye of her best friend of several months, his expression somehow softer. "Are you...?" He asks, his expression more serious than before.

She sighs, her head falling back on her chair as her eyes squeeze shut.

"Holy shit..." She hears after a small silence, hiding her face as much she can behind her hands. "...Got it in one, huh?"

She makes an _ugh_ sound of misery behind her splayed fingers over her eyes. "Shut up, Bucky."

"Hey." He says with some laughter because he's a shit. He's one of her best friends but, he is a professional shit. Being The Soldier for the Avengers aside, he's such a _shit_. "Come on now." He removes her hands from their tight cover over her screwed shut face. "That's nothing to be ashamed of, Doll."

"I know that!" She snips, shoving her hands away from his. "I'm just..." She sighs, unable to get the words out but, why stop now?

"Just what?"

"I'm just- I'm..." She squeezes her eyes shut again before saying. "...I'm embarrassed."

_Well, there goes that._

There is... what could only be called a deafening silence (literally, if a silence could rob you of hearing, this would be _it_ ) and she cannot recall anything except for the roaring in her ears during the next several minutes.

And then.

"Why?"

_Huh?_

She chances a glance from outside her lids and peaks one eye open to see Bucky Barnes - WWII war hero, defected Soviet assassin of the _brainwashed_ kind, and one of her closest buddies - staring at her as if she'd grown a second head with a third one on the way.

And she just now detects the note of surprise in his voice drawn out in that one-word inquiry.

"What?"

"Why would you be embarrassed?"

"Because you're the only person who knows." She blurts out before there's chance she could stop herself because once she's started, apparently, her mouth won't stop running away from her.

His eyes widen a few inches inside his head and gah, she hates everything. "You mean... the Doc doesn't know?" He questions, dropping his voice into a whisper as if JARVIS is gonna suddenly tell on them or some shit.

"No." She grumbles, knowing he means Jane because that's what he's been calling her since he'd had his marbles re-arranged inside that stubborn skull of his. "No, she doesn't know."

"Shit." He utters without hesitation.

"What is it now?"

"I'm the only person who knows your cherry hasn't been popped."

"Ugh." She punches him in the arm, reveling in his wince (though, her knuckles feels _worse_ ) before snatching a slice of pizza and taking a big bite, her mouth still full as she continues. "You're such a fucking asshole. I don't why I talk to you."

The fucker just cackles his little heart out for a few minutes into his own bite of pizza and a big gulp of beer before taking it all down to say. "And here I thought you were a troublemaker."

"I was."

There goes that brow again. "Really?"

"Really." She parrotes, jutting her chin out at him in challenge. "I drank some. I snuck out when I wasn't supposed to. I skipped class a few times. And I mouthed off whenever the urge hit so..."

"So, going to pound town with a some lucky fellas was never on the rebel agenda, then?"

She snorts immediately. "No! And if you ever saw the host of gentlemen littering the halls of my high school, you'd understand why."

Bucky laughs, high and hard, at that, instantly thinking about a sixteen-year-old Darcy Lewis confidently batting off any poor loser trying to cop a feel after only just meeting her. "So, no opportunities then?"

"No, there were a few." She admits, though he could see her reluctance to do so. "But..."

"But?" He tries to gently push, knowing this has already gone above and beyond the most sensitive subject of discussion they could have come to. But, he's only too glad she's opening up to him.

Hm. Bucky Barnes - Former Soviet spy and current friend counselor. Good title.

Her voice pulls him away from that particularly self-congratulatory thought. "But... It just didn't feel right." She confesses, doing that thing where she flexes her knuckles a bit. A nervous tick of hers. "The few nice guys I'd meet were too wimpy and treated me like I was delicate or some shit. And the others... the jocks, the prom kings... acted like I owed them something or whatever." She grumbles, drinking more of her beer.

He fights his first urge to ask exactly who these idiots are and where they live now because while Darcy wouldn't mind a little requisite revenge, he also knows she wouldn't want them dead.

Oh, well.

"And now?" He asks boldly, already having a pretty clear idea of the definition of tall, blonde, and patriotic that's been making her blind to any other male prospects trying to nab her attention for longer than he's been friends with her. "Anybody special now?"

Not that she could be blamed, really, 'cause he knows first hand - even just from being his best friend who'd known him forever and not a hopelessly in love scientist wrangler - that, even as a pre-Serum, sickly, skinny little guy who never got the respect he deserved, Steve Rogers is worth more than a thousand of those shitheads who try to get under Darcy's skirt everyday.

He should know because he used to be those types of guys.

Was. Is. Who even knows anymore?

Not like he'd been trying to reignite that part of his life anyway.

He's had other things on his mind. And if one of those things sometimes - most of the time - happen to be a certain red-headed Russian former spy, then he could _not_ be blamed.

But, that's besides the point.

He has to concentrate on the two people who are beyond gone on each other yet too oblivious to do anything about it.

Funny, being that his main objective, the main mission he'd given himself that very same morning after asking Darce if she'd wanted pizza or burgers to hang out later, had been to simply ask about her dating life and then subtly bring up Steve to see how she'd react.

And really, the subject of her sexual inactivity isn't any of his business - with some proper nudging, it would soon be Rogers' business, hopefully - and while it's never stopped him before, this twist on his plans certainly made things more interesting.

He knows things have changed since the forties and yet, a few things have remained the same.

Casual dating and non-commitment reign supreme now and while it probably wouldn't have bothered him before - he enjoys drinking, swearing, and has had more ass than a toilet seat - for the sake of his friend, it's become a little frustrating.

Even though he believes whole-heartedly (thanks to a short period of time spent with a feminist spitfire of a Scottish mother) that women deserve to do whatever they choose with their bodies and men should shut the fuck up about it, he could also make an argument that both sexes have become pretty fickle nowadays.

Which brings him back Steve and Darcy. His buddy has tried to date before coming to know Dr. Foster's assistant. He had had a short-lived, disastrous relationship with that wide-eyed waitress girl and a few several mission-related dalliances with a certain CIA agent.

(Stevie boy hadn't been a blushing virgin himself since before The War so, yeah... It _paid_ to be Bucky Barnes' friend sometimes.)

And both experiences had been so unfulfilling that it had shut his pal's eyes on further romance until Darcy Lewis had come along.

And now he's finding out that Darcy is more inexperienced than he'd perceived.

Which, y'know, great. Proves she's not fickle in her own right.

At least, not in a sexual way. And he's starting to see, not really in an emotional manner neither.

When she'd mentioned those idiots that had mistreated her, she had been more annoyed than sad.

No love lost, apparently.

"Whatcha mean?" She questions back at him in that way that lets him know she's become suspicious and possibly realizes where he's going with this. Eyeballing him as she drinks her beer.

He smirks. Smart dame.

"I mean... does darling Steven know about your past?"

She stares at him for a long stretch of time before exhaling sharply. Her gaze equally pointing daggers at him. "And why would he know something like that, Barnes?"

"I just mean..." He begins cautiously. "...that it could be of some benefit to yours and Stevie's relationship if you-"

"We're not in a relationship."

Ah. Here we go. "But, you could be."

She turns her face from him, swigging some more beer. That short, brittle laugh bursting out from within her throat. The same kinda laugh that occurs during scraggy evacuations in The Tower or, like right now, when he brings up the man she has a long-standing lady boner for. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

And just as fast as it had started, he knows then, that for her this is very much over and he should drop it.

"Sure, you don't, Dollface." Is his immediate go-to because like hell, she doesn't! And he could hazard a guess that he'd get pretty much the same response he'd been having pizza and beer with Steve right now.

Shit, fuck guessing, he would get the same response from Steve right now.

_God, these two don't know a thing, do they? I should run a school._ Bucky thinks as he lays back on his lounge chair, giving this conversation a rest. The matter dropped, as it were.

For the moment.

 

 

Bucky doesn't bring up their odd discussion until two mornings later as she's drizzling maple syrup on freshly made waffles. Humming an aimless tune to herself as she often does, he's noticed, while eating breakfast food.

Girl loves her breakfast food.

"Think on what we chatted about?" Is what comes out of his mouth instead of the pre-planned talk points he'd thought over after she had phoned him to join her in the communal kitchen to share some waffles, bacon, and eggs - The Tower is sorta empty on account of most of the Avengers being away; Natasha being in Eastern Europe for an extra extra covert op; Tony in Malibu for SI related business with Pepper; Clint away in South Africa for a solo mission of his own; and Thor taking care of family drama all the way up in _Bumfuck_ , Asgard.

The only five people of import present being himself, Darcy, and Stevie boy - whom, in a funny turn of events, had recently come home from his own three week long mission near the ass crack of South America and was probably still sleeping it all off in his cave when he's usually already up well before the sun could greet the sky.

And of course, Doc Foster and Banner who are neatly corralled down at the labs.

"They're scientists." Darcy says into her extra large mug of coffee when he asks why she hadn't invited her closest friend and the Yoga man up for some fine morning chow. "They're _science_ _people_. If they - and by that, I mean Jane, god _especially_ Jane - didn't have to absolutely need food to survive, then they wouldn't eat at all."

Well, case closed.

Darce is actually in the middle of telling him the entertaining tale of the time in which she had tricked Jane into eating a stick of butter to prove a point about her unsavory eating habits when he interrupts with his long held-in question.

And damn, this dame is smart as get out but, she also likes making him work for it and gives him the eye over her steaming cup of coffee. "What we chatted about?" She asks with suspicion.

But, he is just about done with trying to be subtle. One night is more than enough, thank you. "Yeah, you know, about letting Stevie boy give it to you and fucking you into his large, King-sized bed." He replies because again, subtly just isn't for him.

He watches with extreme pleasure as she chokes on her swallow of hot coffee, clutching at her chest as she dry heaves and pants and like, he _really_ wants to help her but, he's too busy trying not to laugh, only handing her a napkin to clean off some dribbles of coffee that escapes during her little attack.

He does monitor her breathing, though. Y'know, just to make sure.

He may be a bastard but, he's not a _monster_.

"Are you about done now?" He drawls lazily as she calms down a little bit.

She manages to speak between tiny, sputtering coughs. "You... *wheezes*... *coughs*... fucking dick..."

He grins like a shark at her. "I try."

(And yeah, it couldn't have been his wording that had gotten her because it would take a whole lot more than that to shock someone as loud and foul-mouthed as Darcy tends to be so, it has to be the image he's put in her head of Mr. Red, White, & Blue doing her up, down, and sideways a top his thousand thread count sheets.

Which are comfortable as hell and he might have slept there in his own drool after getting sloshed for the first time in seventy years on some pretty potent Asgardian meade but, don't fucking judge, 'kay?)

He looks at Darcy across from him taking a large drink of orange juice.

"Don't that taste weird with what you just drank?"

"Yeah." She utters sourly, a likewise expression on her face. "But, I needed something more refreshing because _you_ just fucked up coffee for me."

He laughs because the girl also knows to exaggerate like nobody's business and there'd be no Darcy Lewis if coffee weren't involved.

"Now, let's get back to the subject-"

"Let's not-"

"-About you and Cap getting your fuck on for both your sakes."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She says in an exact repetition of what she had said two nights before. Her expression almost the same, too.

"Bullshit." He replies smoothly. "You know exactly what I'm talking about and don't even lie."

"No, I do not-"

"Darcy..." He hums in warning.

She scoffs, hands waving over her head in exasperation. "And what would you have me do, genius? Walk on into Steve's apartment, take off my clothes, and serve myself up on a silver, virgin platter?" She questions, he's guessing on a hypothetical, sweeping said hands over her pjs to make her point

Doesn't stop him, though.

He's not a hundred percent sure 'cause they are friends and all but, she could possibly murder him for the smirk that appears on his face then. "That is one way of doing it."

And what an image.

"But, that's not really what I meant." He decides to add after a long moment of letting her stew. "What I meant to say was start small."

Her eyes that had been avoiding looking at him finally flicker up, big and curious. "Like how?"

He keeps his smile at bay because she seems like she's starting to cooperate and he'd like to keep it that way. "Well." He begins calmly. "You don't strike me as the type to just go on and seduce somebody." He says and pauses before adding. "No matter how stubbornly crazy you are about said somebody." And because he's an asshole. "And also, you're a virgin so..."

She just stares back at him, jaw tightened and eyes blazing but, saying nothing. Probably cursing herself even more for admitting her secret the night before.

"So, I figured." He continues, remaining undaunted. "You might wanna go the whole dating route."

"With Steve?" She asks with hesitation and worry that is so much unlike her that it concerns him a little, her gaze softening somewhat with something akin to something that sounds suspiciously like disbelief mixed with incredulity. "You want Steve Rogers... Captain America... to go on a date with a big-mouthed glorified lab monkey?"

"Yeah."

She just shakes her head rapidly. "Nope. He's not interested. Believe me."

That last part comes out with attitude which causes him to feel better because he wouldn't know what to do with an unconfident Darcy and he shouldn't start now.

He smirks and drinks some of his own coffee, humming at the perfect combination of strong brewed beans, that hint of sugar, some cream, and just a  _dash_ of cinnamon that warms at his little soul everytime.

She always remembers the way he takes his morning brew.

Happy. He just wants her to be happy. That's all. He wants both of them to be happy. And yeah, he gets it, they're both fine without each other in that way. But, they can be fantastic together. They already are. They have a good thing going. Their friendship is a solid, awesome thing that he understands they both don't wanna ruin - shit, he spends enough time with the both of them so, he knows, he's got it, okay?

But, theirs is also a friendship that also geared towards that kind of change.

And even when he'd first arrived here at Avengers Towers in his confused, terrified stupor. Brought in by a comforting, sad blond stranger who had at once seemed both familiar and frighteningly foreign to him as he had helped lead him inside. And then, the sudden presence of this tiny, stacked, curvy thing coming out of nowhere to embrace the blond giant and releasing relieved, shuddering breaths into his broad shoulder, both caught in their own little world - he'd known it.

_"You're his girl, right?"_

He'd known it then and he knows it now.

And those big, blue, brave eyes. _"And you're his best friend, right?"_

In that entire milestorm of fear and darkness and cold and maddening confusion that had followed, he had ended up coming out to the other side with not only his identity but, his best friend back.

And he'd gained a new one.

They'd saved his life.

He could at least give them this.

So, yeah, see, even with his marbles scattered about, he could see what's between these idiots better than they could ever.

His smirk grows wider when he hears distinct, heavy footsteps and the scent of clean, spiced soap reaches his nostrils.

"Hey, punk." He says just in time for all of his six-foot-two friend to step into the entry way of the kitchen.

He smiles as Darcy goes pin straight in her chair as thought she's been zapped by electricity and those already big eyes of hers widen a fraction at the new presence in the room.

"Jerk." Steve half-smirks at him in greeting, heading on over to Stark's overly complicated coffee machine - he and Stevie both had had lessons on learning to use the damn thing and after almost breaking it a few times, had come out to the other side but, god, at what cost?

And he now knows his best friend's coffee order just as well his own: Black with _spoonfuls_ of sugar.

That's usually it here at The Tower but, he knows for damn sure that if Darcy would head down to one of the many Starbucks nearby, he'd have the sweetest thing she would recommend to him.

Boy's got a sweet tooth like you wouldn't believe.

"Hi, Darce." Steve greets in that usual drawl that only seems to happen when Little Miss Taser Happy is in the same room and he doesn't miss the way his buddy's gaze linger on the brunette across from him and the large, teeth-baring smile that spreads his face nearly in half when she turns her head to greet him - after giving him a the eye of warning - sending him wide grin of her own. "Hey, Steve."

And she gives him another glare after, facing away from the other man, like watch it.

As if that could ever stop him.

He spends the next several, silent minutes with his eyes flickering back and forth between Darcy and Steve.

Darcy.

Steve.

Darcy _and_ Steve.

Steve's stare constantly flying over the tiny beauty at the table.

Darcy, quite possibly feeling those baby blues on her, picking at the food she'd been digging into so voraciously earlier.

And it's like, isn't this the most interesting and awkward thing he's ever seen.

An oh, alright, he maybe, mighta, snapped a _little bit_.

But, honestly? Screw it. Fuck everything. These two stubborn idiots need a push and okay, he should have thought out what he'd been about to say before the shit actually shot out of his damn mouth.

But, well...

"Lewis is a virgin!" Is what comes spiraling out before he could stop it.

And the response is instantaneous.

Steve's eyes widen to twice their size, the mug in his hand falling nearly falling to the ground before his super reflexes come back to him and he catches it.

And Darcy? She just about spills out a mouthful of bacon and pancakes, eyes equally big and alarmed. and also, y'know, pissed. "Bucky!" She yells in a muffled voice.

And - because he's done his friend duty and not because, whatever, _afraid_ or nothing - he gets outta there as soon as possible.

"Good luck, Doll." He pats his probably furious friend on the shoulder before tipping an invisible hat off to Stevie. "Later, punk."

And then he's on his way, hearing two different voices behind his back.

"Wait, hold on-"

"Barnes, you motherfuc- Get back here!"

Yup, he's done his job.

Now, to padlock his apartment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is struck speechless, rants, and ends up in the kitchen again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continue on and you are welcome!

_Fucking Bucky._

Darcy doesn't know how long this uncomfortable, unbearable silence goes after The Tin Man With No Balls leaves the kitchen - actually no, he's got balls, yet their just prominent enough to spout out her biggest secret in front of the object of her affections and then leave like no _biggie._ No. Big. Deal.

She could find him. Like, if she tries hard enough, she can find Barnes and exact revenge on her own behalf.

But, yeah, it's already been five minutes and he's maybe found a place to hide now.

Rat bastard... Rat metal-armed bastard.

She hears large, heavy footsteps walk closer to the table and she peaks out from between her fingers covering her face in the utter embarrassment that her former friend had wrought.

_Fucking Bucky._

"Ugh." She drops her hands and leans and leans back in her chair. "I'm gonna kill Bucky."

A masculine, light chuckle comes from the man now sitting across from her. "Need any help?"

She finds the courage to look at him. At that too-handsome-to-be-real face of his. Those blue eyes. The jaw. The lush lips widened under pearly whites smiling beautifully at her. The short-sleeved shirt stretched across his arms and chest and maybe _designed_ to fuck her entire world up.

She tears her eyes away from his torso to shake her head. "Nope." She says. "I don't need any help. I just wanna let you know." She plants her palms on the table, peering at him semi-seriously. "That I am going to murder your best friend. The same man you grew up and have spent so much time bringing back... I am going to do him some damage." She trails off before adding, just as an afterthought. "And then bury the body in a place where you will never find it."

That earns another laugh. Only one she enjoys a little bit less because it feels like just a bit mocking. "Why? Because of what he said before he left?"

"No, because he refuses to polish his metal arm- Yes! What do you mean, why? Yes!" She slams a hand on the table, gritting her teeth hard in her mouth. "God, I can't believe him."

"I can." He says apologetically. "I grew up with him. So, I can very much believe what he just did."

"Jesus." She rolls her eyes around before her face falls into her hands again.

A silence falls over then then. That dreaded, blissfully awkward, unbearable silence that hadn't of been there had Robo-Idiot not opened his big, fat mouth. The type of silence made impossible before by the structure of their friendship.

Namely, the way she magically makes other people be present when they hang out because she's mortified of acting like a blushing, teenage virgin instead of the kick-ass, sarcastic _25-year-old_ virgin that she actually is.

And so, that's the formula she's worked so hard on during the past year.

Even the few instances where they'd been, as one would constitute, _alone_ , she'd had the security of having others hovering nearby without them actually knowing it.

Except for Jane. Jane would, if anything, turn out worse than her now former metal-armed friend and blurt out that Darcy's named her vibrator _Captain_ and yeah, if this has her prickling with rage and indignation, she wouldn't wanna know how she'd react if _that_ ever occurred.

Even Bucky, more often than not, had acted as a buffer between them but, since he's about to _die_ soon...

This is literally, she now realizes, the first time they've been very much alone.

Alone.

As in no one is around. At all.

Because most of the Avengers are out avenging things and good ol' Buckeroo is somewhere hiding before she could avenge her own ass... and rid him of his mouthy balls.

God... damn him. Goddamn Bucky!

"You know, you have nothing to be ashamed of, right?"

She eyes him from across the small table, recalling that Buck had said nearly the same words to her a few nights ago and that unlike with Robo-Dick, her well-honed cynicism is a little less easy to come by and that in spite of the casual manner in which he tells her this that he's being very serious.

It sorta causes that bubble of embarrassment to trickle down some.

"Really?"

He just nods, his features kind and his eyes warm, making those stupid, warm fuzzies to go knock-knock in her stomach as he leans in closer to her. "Yeah. In fact..." He gazes at her thoughtfully, no doubt aware of the way her throat constricts at his proximity. "...I think it's pretty sweet."

She'd look away if she could. If she had any will to do such a thing. If she had not been trapped in his earnest and intense blue eyes right now.

"Don't patronize me." She means to say in warning though it comes out more in a weak, breathy voice she doesn't recognize and no sir, she is very much _not_ sweet, thank you very much.

 _Fuck_.

Somehow during their talk he's moved closer and damn, this table's tiny 'cause he's suddenly right there and he's holding one of her hands in his while the other is on her shoulder, thumb stroking and they're big and warm and she's starting to feel dizzy and what the hell is happening?

And the stupid part is he has no idea. Sitting there, being the _sweet one_ in this scenario and looking at her like he can't find anything at all weird or abnormal or pity worthy about her.

Which, she doesn't think any of those things either but, y'know.

Is what it is, ya'll.

She wonders if that's the thing. If her picky vagina is now aligning with her equally stubborn heart and is like, _hey, maybe this guy?_

Because he's good. He's decent and beautiful and strong and has the undercover sense of snark that she kind of adores.

And those are the best reasons, aren't they?

"You think it's sweet that I'm twenty-five and have never-"

"I don't care." He interrupts, holding onto her eyes the way only he can. As though he's solely responsible fro where her gaze should travel. " _No_ _one_ should care. If you were mine..." She suddenly remembers that he's still holding her hand because he swipes a thumb across the back of it and it sends a damn shiver straight through her. "...I would be _honored_ to be the first and only in that uncharted territory." He says in a that smooth way she hardly thinks he even knows he conveys.

Only Steve Rogers - Captain America or no - could say something like that with complete and total seriousness.

Earnest _and_ hot.

She feels herself suck in a nice, long breath at the implication of his words because whoa.... he did _not_ just...

And it's like, he's no better considering his face looks like he had swallowed a big pill and then chased it down with gasoline. Like, honestly, she'd laugh if not for the roaring of her own heart in her ears and the fact that he almost looks like, whatever he had meant to say, that had not been it.

 Like he'd realized the downright dirty undertones of his proclamation towards her.

The images he's now creating in her much creative mind.

She shifts uncomfortably in her chair because yeah, she's truly _feeling_ the affects of those words.

She meets his eyes again. That gaze pinned on her.

Intense. Penetrating. All searing heat.

"Steve, I-"

Of course, before she could say anything (like maybe could back up his words with actual action?), emergency alarms are going off in The Tower and okay, right, just when she's about to come clean to the man she's been slowly falling for in the past year, fucking alarms go off.

Such is the state of her love life.

_Why?_

 

 

 

"Ugh!" Darcy bangs her head against one of Jane's many work tables an exact week after her little incident in the kitchen with Steve and Bucky - who, side note, has conveniently disappeared off on a solo op off in the _Ural mountains_ because he's a piece of shit professional asshole.

And the same amount of time since she'd seen Steve because he also had been called away on his own mission to lend a much needed hand to Iron Man and Hulk all the way in London.

Fucking metal lark.

She hates everything.

"Jane." She's well-aware that she sounds like a five-year-old, 'kay? Don't judge. "Something happened."

"Not with my data. I hope."

Darcy swears she feels so appreciated when one of her best friends isn't paying any bit of attention to her when she has a dilemma regarding Steve of all people. "No, not with your dumb data."

"Great. So, do you have it on you?"

She does, but... "Jane!"

The astrophysicist looks up at the tone of her voice. "What?"

"Could you please be a person for five minutes?"

Her friend's brows draw up at her more desperate tone and after a minute of contemplation, turns and shuts off her tablet and holotable, pressing button after button quickly before turning back to her again, expectant look on her delicate features. "Something happen with Steve?"

Okay, for those of you playing catch-up: Jane Foster, acclaimed scientist and certified kooky genius, is actually quite fond of gossip. Especially about her former intern/now paid assistant's love life (or lack thereof). And at first she had thought it because the slightly older woman had wanted to live vicariously through her more active, presumed or not, dating life.

But, no. Even now that she's been getting nooky on the daily with a Norse god, still...

Especially after that short-lived disaster with Ian, it had gotten worse.

After meeting Steve? _Pfft_. Forget it.

She swears that she's getting back at her because of the insistent teasing about Thor's absence way back when.

It's not like she isn't getting her comeuppance with that by having to hear the woman whom she's come to think of as a sister bang her giant sex god of a boyfriend _nightly_.

"So, Bucky said something stupid-"

"When doesn't he, though?" Comes Jane's response. Which is... not surprising. Because even after all this time and his own rehabilitation, Jane still doesn't seem to trust Bucky all that much. Moments here and there, it looks like she does but, there are some things...

Regardless, she's not cozied up to him like every other human being has. That science-y forebrain of hers probably keeping her from doing so.

Maybe doesn't help any that the former WWII soldier thinks she's as crazy as a nutter herself.

"Anyway, he said something stupid but, also very true..." She manages with gritted teeth before taking a deep breath. "...and then he left me to do the clean-up."

The lighter-haired woman literally leans in closer, hazel eyes bright and eager. "And then?"

"And then he said something."

"Said what? What did he say?"

"I don't know." She wrings her hands, thinking about intense blue stares and strong, warm hands on her. "I just... I think he was trying to... come onto me. I'm not sure."

She's sure what she'd wanted it to be but, not really sure he had actually meant it as such.

"Come onto you?" Her friend questions with confusion. "And... that's a problem?"

Well, when she says it like _that_.

"I mean, not like he was trying to seduce me, like, _'oh come'ere, baby'_ , not like that." She scratches her head, her brain reeling again. "I... Bucky said something about my... sex life that I'd rather he hadn't." She admits, thinking why not?

"Your sex life? Did he-"

"He found out I don't have one."

She doesn't fully expect the deafening silence that follows her words.

"But, you... I mean... then..." Her scientist, for the first since she'd known her, flails with confusion. "...You have, y'know..."

"Yeah..." She drawls, flicking her eyes down to her shoes before looking back up, frowning. "About that..."

And thus, ensues the most awkward, long, most one-sided conversation she's ever had in her adult life - of course, barring most she's ever had with Steve in the beginning of their friendship, which had been a lot - and before she knows it, Darcy's word-vomited all over the lab about her dating life and the lack thereof of any sexual flow in said social life and of course, _why_.

("...But, you and Ian...?"

"Ugh! Are you kidding me?"

"Sorry. Sorry. Stupid question.")

Also, she spills forth what exactly what had gone on in the kitchen with Steve. In _coherent_ sentences. Following the mess that Buck had made of things. Following her complete stupidity in confiding in him a few nights before.

And before she can stop herself, there's a rant coming on.

"...And it's like, god! I can't believe him!" She yells in frustration. "I can never trust him again! He's such a-"

"A jerk." Her friend supplies calmly.

"An asshole!"

"Right. You're so right."

She hadn't even realized she'd started pacing until she feels a headache coming. "A metal-armed asshole." She spits to no one in particular.

"Exactly."

"A tool."

"What you said."

"I know!" She opens her mouth to talk more smack... before _stopping_ entirely. Eyeing Jane and the odd expression on her face. Which seems suspicious. Almost thoughtful. A little more than innocent to be sincere.

She narrows her eyes at her. "What?"

"What?" The other woman squawks, her voice suddenly too high. Trying too hard to be innocuous.

"You have a..." She points to her own face to illustrate. "...a look. Thoughts. You're having thoughts. Thoughts having nothing to do with science. Spill!"

"Nothing." Jane shrugs after seemingly thinking the better against lying. _Good girl_. "It's just that you did say that Bucky thought he was trying to help and... maybe he was."

With a huff, Darcy folds her arms over her chest like the adult she is. "So, you're on his side now?"

"Hey, take it easy-"

"He told the man that I might just be a little _too_ crazy about that I've never done the deed with anyone and you're taking his side now!" She resorts back to yelling. She resorts back to yelling because this has all just gotten _very_ stupid. "I can't believe you! I can't believe him and I can't believe you!"

"Darcy-"

"I mean, you know how I feel about Steve." She adds loudly, her eyes starting to burn at the edges and also kinda blurry and oh shit. "I hate feelings and emotions more than I do my own mother and I talk constantly about how I would easily have Steve Rogers's babies if asked and Bucky wrecked it!" She's getting very hysterical right now and her inner feminist would be ashamed at her for using such a term. "And now, you're taking the side of a man whom you barely trust-"

"Darcy!"

"What?!"

And then... she hears it.

 _"Ahem."_ A very distinctive throat clears behind her and yeah, she would say distinctive because she's spent the last year in a half studying the man's every gesture and this is so embarrassing 'cause lord, how much had he heard just now?

"Steve." She says uneasily, trying to smile and only making it to a grimace as she turns to face one of the men she'd just been ranting about. "What up?"

Steve just stands there in all his manly glory. In _that_ damn combination of white t-shirt, brown leather jacket, and blue jeans that he's gotta know is her fucking weakness. With that glint in his eye as he looks at her that essentially tells her that Christ, he'd heard everything, hadn't he?

Then, he's shifting and looking over her shoulder at Jane. "Dr. Foster, is it okay if I borrow Darcy for a bit?" In a tone of voice that gives nothing away no matter how hard she tries to read into it.

"By all means." Her traitor answers with a laugh in her voice. "Take your time."

And when she spins to give the woman who's supposed to be her friend the evil eye, there is indeed a tell-tale tenseness to Jane Foster's shoulders that would indicate she's trying hard - though, _not_ hard enough - to avoid guffawing all over her lab.

And of course, Jane could give as good as she could get and simply shoots her a look that communicates, _you asked for this!_

(and yeah, okay, fine, maybe she had but, she doesn't _have_ to look at her like that.)

As she turns with a brave smile to face Steve, she hears:

"Uh, Darcy?"

She turns swiftly. "What?"

"My data?"

_Really??!_

She's nearly _boiling_ with indignation as she rustles out a manila envelope from her bag and throws it on the holotable.

"Oh, here's your damn data!"

 

 

 

  It's yet another one of the most uncomfortable silences (something Darcy _hopes_ doesn't become the norm) follows them as they walk down the hall from the labs.

On the one hand it's the kind of discomfort one faces on a normal basis - those little unsettling pauses in job interviews or family reunions where you just _have to_ answer that question that you really don't want to.

And on the other?

Her skin's buzzing. Every miniscule hair standing on end. Her mind on overload. Her entire body on alert to... _all_ that is Steve.

God, she's in such trouble.

And she doesn't even know what kind... 'cause she hasn't _looked_ at Steve once since they got out here.

And that's maybe why she almost jumps out of her skin when he trails his fingers down her arm. Encircling her wrists. Before stopping to _hold her hand_.

She glances down - at the big, warm hand clasped in her own smaller one - that perfect fit.

(She's almost always wondered about that. How well they'd fit. Physically. Mentally. As a couple. She wonders now if this is a sign or something.)

They end up in the kitchen... again.

She just hopes it's not for another of the worst embarrassments in her life.

She watches him walk ahead of her towards the coffee section - an actual _section_ because it's Tony and he does nothing by halves so there's even a wooden sign that says _my blood type is coffee!_ along with the machine and it's fixings so, there's that - taking him all in as she often does.

And it's not even just the way his clothes fit over his damn perfect body - tall, big, and muscular - but, it's that twirly, fluttery sensation in her belly that he's been responsible for since they'd met. Those stupid butterflies that belie every bit of her that's attune to him.

It's this thing that's been growing over the past year or so. This thing that's had him so firmly entrenched in her heart that he's maybe never gonna leave. The already distracting crush that has developed into something more.

Something far deeper than she's ever delt with before. To the point that it now has her thinking about that part of her that she's not given to any other man.

A part of herself that she's not wanted to give to anyone until she'd met Steve.

But, as fate would have it, he's also one of her closest friends.

He's far too important for her to ruin it because he's everything she's ever wanted in a man even before she had known exactly what that is.

Namely, that aside from his _unreal_ good looks and sex appeal... He's one of the most decent, amazing man she's ever known.

Her heart has fallen harder than ever before. And she's still having a hard time knowing what to do with that.

"Coffee?" He questions at said machine as the room starts to fill with the scent of fresh beans.

She calculates that it has been an hour since she'd last had a cup. So, _reasonably_... "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

He nods without a word and turns to grab two large café cups from atop the coffeemaker it beeps a signal to switch to _keep warm_. His movements careful. Precise. Maddeningly distracting.

"Darcy." She hears because she's soo very brave that she's taken to staring at her own shoes. Such nice shoes. "I-"

"I wanna talk to you..." She blurts out over whatever it is he's about to say and _yay!_ for making it more awkward. "...about what happened last week."

She might as well nip it in the bud while she could. It's, granted, not the most ideal situation to lay her cards on the table once and for all. Namely, Bucky and his big mouth. And her stupid decision to ever confide in him in the first place.

"About why Bucky said what he did." She adds hesitantly. God, this is gonna be bad.

Steve just calmly pulls out a chair and sits in it, his face inscrutable to her gaze for the first time since they'd known each other.

All the while she shuffles on her feet. Stomach jumping with nerves. Her palms sweating. Her mind running a mile a minute with just how this could all go.

"Darcy-"

"I uh..." She starts again before he could say anything else. Deciding indefinitely to go for broke. "I think about you. A lot." She says, wincing at the shaky sound of her own voice  before continuing. "I mean, it's a problem. I... I don't mean a _problem_ problem, it's just - Jane could ask me to go grab her more pop tarts because, of course, she needs more pop tarts. Because she's a freak genius and freak geniuses refuse to admit that they need real human food to-"

She breaks off, only just realizing her babbling and the only _slightly_ alarmed look on Steve's face. "Know what? Nevermind, I don't need to get into that. My point is, I would be at the store getting Jane's pop tarts and all of a sudden, there you are and it's like, 'geez, I wonder what Steve's up to?'" Her voice is rising higher and higher. Some sweat breaking out on her brow. "And then, before I know it, I'm soo distracted that I'm walking out of the damn store with more pop tart boxes than I know what to fucking do with!"

She stops, it hitting her how crazy she's starting to sound and adds softly. "And all because you're right there in my head. And yeah, I really should shut up now before I make an even bigger idiot out of myself."

She has no clue how long the following silence last... Just that she remains in place. Hands in her pockets. Face hot and her whole body slumping with the embarrassment she'd sworn to avoid before.

"Darcy?"

"Yeah?" She asks softly, barely able to look at him due to her word vomit. God, she's an idiot. What could she possibly have accomplished, besides making things worse, just now? She's pretty lucky that she hadn't just come out with all she feels. All she wants with him. How much she wants to be with him. How much she wants to go on dates with him. Have him look at her with the affection she'd always wished for from him.

Have him make love to her like she'd dreamed he could.

She's so caught up in her thoughts that she completely misses the fact that Steve is no longer sitting down. That he's now standing close to her. Close enough that she could feel his minty breath on her face when he speaks again. "Darcy?"

He's so unbelievably close. So close that one move could have her brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt. "Yeah?" She repeats, ignoring the swarm of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The clean smell of him making her dizzy.

"Look at me, please." He rumbles. She's almost pressed to his chest and could feel his voice going through her. Deep, low baritone resounding in her skull.

She does what he says.

Their eyes meet for the first time since they'd come in here and she nearly shivers. Steve's eyes are dark. Pupils blown wide. Sparkling with something she'd never thought to fantasize about. His mouth curling at the corners in a manner that's probably illegal in twenty states. "I think about you a lot, too."

And the smile he ends up giving her is at once panty-dropping sexy _and_ almost loving.

That's about the only coherent thought she has left before he's leaning down and in as she chases him upward and then, his mouth is on hers and she inhales something bracing, minty, and  _oh_.

The kiss is soft and almost too sweet for her to handle, twisting her heart in her chest and her breath to catch. Her palms stretching up and laying on his broad chest. Eyes fluttering shut as she sinks into him. Trails of heat trickling down her spine that get chased by the warmth of his big hands sliding up and over her back as her own climb his strong shoulders and go around his neck.

She's already panting by the time he gently pulls away from the kiss, leaning down and pressing his forehead on hers as he cups her face. "I've wanted that for a long time." He murmurs, thumbs stroking across her flaming cheekbones, a relieved grin spreading his lips. His _unfairly_ distracting mouth. Jesus.

She flushes - god help her, she flushes like a _goddamn schoolgirl_ \- at the attention. "What do you mean, a long time?"

"I've been sweet on you since I first saw you." He confesses, low and a little gravelly, imprinting in the air between them. Gaze half-lidded and dark blue. "I remember seeing you. Yelling at Tony to keep his trash away from your lunch." Even now, as he's recounting one of her least finest moments, he's smiling almost wistfully. "You were all... brashness and fire. Glorious. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

Lord. She never would have thought... "Really?" Funny, considering she'd been wearing her least flattering sweater that had been _covered_ in green goo (and had worried a perfectly good turkey sandwich) thanks to her millionaire idiot of a boss and thus, the shouting match with Stark and yet...

"Really." He answers her, that nearly unforgivably mix of sexy and earnest once more causing her knees to go weak before she decides there are better ways to show how pleased she is at this development and _she's_ the one to initiate a kiss this time.

'Cause this she could do. She knows some things at least. And from other testimonials, she's great at this. For all her inexperience, she's fucking aces at making out.

She'd been surprised, a little embarrassed and out of it, before... But, she readily opens up for Steve as his tongue traces the seams of her mouth. Her own tongue curling up with his. His hands threading and burying themselves in her hair as she bites his bottom lip and _whoa_.

It's like touching at a livewire and Steve groans deeply into her throat before he's wrapping his arms around her waist and swinging her up and before she could breathe properly, onto the kitchen counter, her legs immediately widening to fit him between them. Able to feel the heat there. The ready and hard length of him pressing insistently into her. Hands over her thighs as she hikes one over his hip and moving so he could hit _that_ spot

"Hmm." He hums, moving off her mouth and tracing burning trails over her jaw and- _"Oh."_ She gasps when he finds an area behind her ear that makes everything go zingy and hot. Her mind to go fuzzy and hazy.

"Like that?" He whispers in her ear and the hand clutching at the back of his head, holding him to her, tightens involuntarily. Accidently scratching at the skin and causing him make a sound that's a spin between a moan and a growl, rolling his hips into her and she can barely keep it together enough to hold off from whimpering.

"Yes. Yes." She rasps, eyes shut and head back. Baring her throat to his teeth that sink in and make her moan. Lips moving and traveling downward to her sweater-clad chest. Big hands, warm and skilled, sliding under said sweater to meet skin.

This is escalating at a quicker rate than she would normally allow. And it's Steve. Shouldn't they be talking about this before anything happens? Discuss it some more before they do whatever the hell?

Before she could do that. Before she could put a stop to this and get a clear head about her, there's an all out annoying noise disrupting them and as her mind starts to center itself - realizing they're in the communal kitchen, for crap's sake! - and Steve is groaning in an altogether _different_ fashion, they both come to realize it's his phone.

With a very... specific ringtone.

_Oh. Fucking Bucky._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! I know! I'm sorry! I really wanted to put things to end here but... Yeah, this was taking too long and I have a lot more to go and I think it can fill up at least one more chapter (hopefully!) and I'm really grateful you stayed and read! :) Appreciate it a lot. Please stick around and let me know what you think... *gives puppy dog eyes*

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. I just had this random idea. Tell me what you think. I have a few thoughts on how to end this. And yeah, it's maybe exactly the way you think. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Feel free to tell me what you think or even a few suggestions, if you want. :)


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